


Genius of Love

by DarlingDearestDemonic



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Dealing, Durincest, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Gatsby-esque Thorin, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingDearestDemonic/pseuds/DarlingDearestDemonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MODERN DAY KILI/THORIN. Two wild brothers, Fili and Kili, arrive on their uncle's doorstep one day, ignorant of the tribulations and misfortunes that awaited them in such a place. Just who is the mysterious suit-clad Smaug and why is he so interested in the dark, brooding Thorin Oakensheild? Lured by a promise, will Kili stumble into Smaug's lair and remain there - for good? Kili/Thorin    implied Fili/Thorin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer 1: Song credits in this one go to the wonderful Billy Joel
> 
> Disclaimer 2: Also I do not own the Hobbit or the characters that appear in it. Happy?

" _Wellllllll you went uptown ridin' in your limousine_

_With your fine Park Avenue clothes_

_You had the Dom Perignon in your hand_

_And the spoon up your nose_

_And when you wake up in the morning_

_With your head on fire_

_And your eyes too bloody to see_

_Go on and cry in your coffee_

_But don't come bitchin' to me…"_

" _Because you had to be a big shot, didn'tcha_ \- come on, brother! Sing!" Kili gave a whoop of joy and stomped on the accelerator, forcing the car forward with a stomach-wrenching jolt. His long black hair, wild and free as ever, was blown back from his face, his jean V-neck collar slapped fearfully at his pale chest, and his brown eyes watered with the thrill of it all but still he begged the car for more speed. He looked over at his brother and was annoyed to find that he was not fazed by his burst of impulsivity. One arm draped outside of the nonexistent window, his golden hair blowing neatly in the rushing wind, Fili looked for all the world as if they were just out on a regular Sunday drive to nowhere. But they weren't on a regular Sunday drive to nowhere. Didn't he know that? _Well, he doesn't have to look so damn smug_ , Kili thought to himself, taking one hand off of the steering wheel (a move that he knew irked his oh-so-proper brother.) Fili smiled at such a childish attempt at annoying him and slowly turned his blue eyes back to the road ahead. In the beginning he hadn't been so sure about their destination and the events leading up to it. He certainly didn't share his brother's dismissive attitude towards the whole thing nor was he despondent about it either. Really, he was just resigned and ready to start a new life. But in that moment all he was focused on was Kili's peculiar driving antics and the way that he kept weaving around the yellow divider.

"Look, do you want me to drive?" He finally asked when Kili almost drove them into a wire fence six feet from the lonely cement road. Kili shook his head, making the wooden beads ('hippie beads' as Fili liked to call them) on the ends of his braids whip him in the face.

"Nope," he said in that surprisingly deep voice of his. He swerved to avoid a dead cat in the road. "You might kill us."

"Kill us?" Fili said with mock offense, "There's no doubt about it. But if I drive we'll end up dead in a much more pleasant way. With you're driving we'll end up like that poor, squashed animal back there."

"That was curiosity that killed that poor, squashed animal, not me! Now shut up and enjoy the wonderful scenery." He reached out with a ringed hand and turned the volume on the radio to ten, the highest that it could go. Billy Joel's voice rose from the heart of the old, rusty convertible with a fiery exuberance that made all living things in the general vicinity pause and look up in horror. Kili whooped again, bit his lip, and beat the steering wheel in time with the music with his large hands. Fili sighed. Why did he even try?

"At least go faster if you're going to kill us. I want my last moments to be one of awe and excitement, not resigned boredom."

Kili raised his eyebrows and laughed at the not-so-subtle jibe. He was going to provide his brother with some kind of snappy retort but his mind was like the vehicle that he was driving: tempestuous, wild, and unable to move in a straight line at times. Besides, his favorite part of the song was coming up and he had to prepare to sing it as loud as possible. His goal was to wake all of the inhabitants in a fifty mile radius, you see. He took a big breath in, his chest swelling against the tear in his jacket.

"Hey, brother? Are you nervous at all? About meeting Him, I mean. He can't be that terrible considering he was kind enough to open up his home to us but-"

What a useless endeavor. Kili was wrapped up in his own world and even though he had heard every word that his brother had spoken he was simply not interested in responding. Now it was his turn to flash Fili an undaunted, pearly-white smile (the likes of which had melted many artists' hearts) and in return Fili could only shake his head. Of course, he should have known not to interrupt his brother while he was singing Big Shot yet at the same time he felt like something had to be said about what they were doing and why they were doing it. A necessary prelude is what he had been getting at but, as expected, Kili just was not interested in such 'namsy, pamsy stuff.'

"Motherfucker," Fili whispered, bringing his hand up to his bearded chin. Now his brother definitely heard _that_. He caught Kili's eye and quickly looked away, a handsome smile growing on his lips. Soon that smile was replaced with suppressed chuckling and soon suppressed chuckling became untrammeled laughter for both brothers. Kili tossed his head and squeezed the poor, tortured steering wheel in uncontained merriment. The way he saw it, there was no need to fear what was coming. He had taken on many difficult things in life and, besides, he was all for an unexpected adventure. The fact that he literally had no idea where he was going in life anymore made the whole thing even more alluring.

He stomped the accelerator again and sent the car speeding forward, the sound of his raucous voice engulfing all that surrounded them.

Xxxxx

Two hours later found the two men pulling into a grand driveway. Before them stood a proud but terribly silent mansion swathed in its own shadows and tiny, creeping vines that snuck along the edges of its worn, grey bricks. All around them lay signs of the mysterious patron's wealth: the driveway spread around the car in a wide, dusty brown circle that was fringed by dark green vegetation, various fountains stood scattered about on the trimmed lawn, and the whole estate gave off the distinct impression of pleasing uniformity and cleanliness. Tiny birds the size of their ears chased bees and the occasional lost squirrel through pungent, sun-bathed bushes but aside from that all was still.

There was one more thing that caught each brother's eye as they eased into the driveway. There, standing like a proud, metallic beast amongst an ancient realm, stood a glinting, silver Cadillac of the likes that one rarely saw on the streets. Its polished body shone a burning light on all that it touched – save for the shadows of the mansion – and yet reflected everything around in humorously disproportionate blurs. Fili stared at his smudged face pass by as his brother suddenly gunned the engine and drifted into a dust-raising half-circle around the driveway. The sharp Cadillac was momentarily forgotten as Fili clutched the door in alarm (what good what it have done? The damn thing was so close to falling off, anyway) and directed a thousand mental curses at his brother.

"Idiot," he hissed when they finally came to a grumbling stop. Kili simply laughed and opened his door – another useless endeavor, in his excitement to get out of the car he simply toppled over the side and went sprawling beard-first into the dust. Fili, however, chose to do it the proper way and instead stepped cleanly and majestically out of the old car. He looked up at the silent mansion with apprehension as his brother muttered curses at the dirt. All of the windows had been obscured by black, velvety drapes giving the façade of the mansion the appearance of having closed eyes covered in black eye shadow of the sort that Kili used to wear. Was the man of the house in there somewhere, watching their every move?

Kili popped up next to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "You alright, brother?" he asked with that customary grin of his. He went around the back of the car and popped the trunk, not even bothering to look up at the magnificent house. Fili shrugged and drew his eyes away from the haunting curtains. He joined his brother around the back and helped him retrieve their bags.

"Dunno," he grunted as he tugged out his suitcase, "it's too quiet. Like a grave yard."

"That's why you've got to come in with a bang and shake things up a little bit. Why else do you think I would have toppled out of the car?"

"Because you're fucking thick. Help me with this suitcase."

Fili swung the suitcase into his brother's chest with an impressive force that sent the younger man stumbling backwards. Kili retaliated by dropping the suitcase and shoving his shoulders playfully. Thus a meaningless, brotherly tussle sprung up between the two and this would have gone on for a while had not the front door suddenly swung open in the blood-curdling wake of the Man.

The two brothers froze mid-tackle and stared up at the man with apprehensive eyes. He was tall – almost impossibly so – and the silver, leather boots that he wore around black cupro trousers made him seem even taller. It was obvious that he was not a man to be toyed with; on the contrary he seemed the type of man who made a sport of toying with others without fear of retribution. But this was not what caught their breaths and struck their hearts cold. There was something distinctly reptilian about the man: his cheekbones were high and sharp and taught beneath marble-white skin, his eyes were black as polished obsidian and glinted with fierce delight, and when he turned the brilliance of his predatory smile upon them his canine teeth, bared, reminded the two brothers of tiny spears shoved carelessly into his gums.

He stepped off of the cement steps with a feigned politeness that contradicted the grandeur of his every movement. His eyes rolled slowly from Kili to Fili and back again and it was to the younger man that he held out his hand.

"You must be Thorin's nephews – Fili and Kili, I suppose," Kili suddenly noticed the diamond and silver rings that graced each finger as the man walked towards him, his hand still extended in a welcoming gesture. Slowly his eyes traveled up the golden buttons and fur lined collar of the man's leather jacket and to his ear where a solitary cross made of gold hung. His heart quickened at the sight of so much wealth and luxury and, for a moment, he could only stare mutely at the man's neck where a string of cerulean jewels disappeared into his cotton shirt. He didn't know why but he suddenly felt uncontrollably attracted to all of that wealth: it was as if a primal lust for precious stones of the deeper, darker parts of the earth had awoken within him. He suddenly wished that the old wooden beads on his chest weren't so exposed. The man noted Kili's fascination with obvious delight before turning his eyes on his brother and shaking his hand with a rough, almost scaly grip. "My name is Smaug. Some call me the Dragon but I'm never sure why."

"In ancient tales dragons had an appreciation for fine things," Fili said cordially. He glanced once at his brother who was still staring at the man's necklace, "Our mother used to read us old lore and such. You know, dwarves, elves, Hobbits…"

"I see,"

"I'm sorry," Kili said unapologetically. He roused himself from his reverie and glared at Smaug. "Who exactly are you?"

"That depends. I am who I want to be and can be who you need me to be – that is, if you stay on my good side. Yet again, I don't really have a bad one," he laughed, all the while keeping his black eyes fixed on Kili's face. Kili didn't like the stare nor did he appreciate the man's grating laughter. He could almost imagine smoke pouring from his nose and fire spilling forth from between his teeth like the beasts in his mother's tales. He was glad when the man gave a final _hmph_ of satisfaction and shut his mouth.

"Everyone has a bad side," Kili muttered, "worse still if they can't identify themselves to the guests of the man who owns this place." Kili tossed his head at the mansion behind them.

"You say that as if you have some sort of… _right_ ,"

"Maybe I do,"

The two men glared at each other in silence _. I'll be damned if I let this man win_ , Kili thought to himself as he stared with unblinking eyes into the man's face. But just as his eyes began to water Smaug gave another _hmph_ (Kili was almost sure that he had seen smoke rolling from his nose) and stuck a hand in his jacket.

"I like you," he said. He pulled a card out from his inner pocket and held it up to him, "I could use a man like you. Oh yes. That hot temper will come in handy for me one day. Besides," here he flashed a grin at Fili, "you have Thorin's blood in you! Both of you! There are few things that I desire more than that. Sarog!"

The two brothers turned in surprise and found a little man standing awkwardly in the doorway. He was hideous beyond all belief and stood crouched like a man unused to walking on two legs. He shuffled past them with many a snort and a sniffle, his beady eyes roaming angrily over Kili's face as he put his hand up to shield his nose from the stench. The two men got into the car and pulled slowly out of the driveway, pausing one last time before the two brothers. Smaug stared with unabashed curiosity at Kili and, for a moment, it seemed as if he was going to call out to him, but his lips remained set in a thin line and before either man could arrange their face into a proud snarl the Cadillac sped out of the driveway, covering the men in a fine layer of dust.

"Dirty, money-loving, gold-snatching, son of a donkey always getting fingerprints on my prize vases and disturbing second breakfast! As if it wasn't enough having eleven other men in this house. Calling themselves the Company and whatnot. Company of what, if I may ask? Oh-ho, best not get involved –" once again the two brothers turned in surprise and stared at the little man that stood sweeping the dust from the doorstep. He was neither old nor young, plain nor memorable, and went about his work with the air of a man who is constantly harassed by the little things in life. Fili glanced conspiratorially at his brother and took a step forward.

"You there! Are you the master of this house?" The man looked up and squinted at them. Kili was immediately reminded of a little rabbit with its button-nose in the air and its ears twitching attentively. He would have smiled at the comparison but he was still feeling rather sour from his meeting with Smaug.

"Who's asking?"

"Fili and Kili, nephews of Thorin Oakensheild." The man gave a gasp and a hop and dropped the broom in his excitement.

"You weren't due for another week," he squeaked, rubbing his hands frantically over the fabric of his yellow vest, "what are you playing at, showing up unexpected like this? This is the twelfth time – twelfth time, do you hear me? – that something like this has happened. First there was Balin and Bifur, then Ori, Nori, Dori, Gloin – Balin didn't even use the front door mind you – and other relatives and relations that-"

"I don't think this is our illustrious host," Fili whispered in his brother's ear.

"I don't think this is an illustrious anything. Come on," Kili picked up his bags and tucked one beneath each arm. His pushed past the babbling man – pausing only once to inform him that he was Kili and he was very much at his service - before trudging into the dimly lit hall, his brother following close behind. Almost immediately the smell of food descended upon them like a warm, tempting wave and all thoughts of the mysterious Smaug vanished from their minds. Kili had no idea where he was going – he only knew to follow his feet as it tread upon the rich, Persian carpet and his fine nose as it snuffled at the delicious scent in the air. Finally he reached the end of the hall and found himself standing before two massive double doors that could have graced the entrance of a large kingdom. What with the ancient bricks and grey, lamp-lit walls he could have been inside a miniature castle but he didn't care. A feast lay behind those double doors and that's all that he was concerned about. The sound of drunken laughter and purposeless shouting could be heard from within and this excited him. The man pushed past him and laid his ringed hands on the wooden knob.

"Bilbo Baggins, by the way," he said reproachfully and a bit breathlessly, "welcome to the home of Thorin Oakensheild." With that he pulled the doors open and the two brothers gasped in delight.

"I don't know about you," Kili said, his face lit like a child's from the fire roaring within, "But I could get used to this place."


	2. Flashback

"Tell us again, Uncle, tell us again!"

"Have you boys eaten your breakfast and brushed your teeth?

"Yes!"

"Do I have to ask Dis?"

"No! No, no, no, no, no!"

"Alright," the man sighed and placed Kili on his lap. Fili, much too old for such things but envious nonetheless, simply stood by his uncle's side and rested his elbows on his thigh. They were of that particular sort of children that reveled in their capability to make loud noises from their mouths which earned them the familial name 'chittering cherubs' but once on their uncle's lap they immediately shut their mouths. Kili stuck his thumb in his mouth and Fili giggled, causing the younger brother to kick out sharply at his brother's face and pretend as if he were merely going to bite his thumbnail.

"Uncle, Kili is a sissy," Fili stated matter-of-factly. Kili squinted his eyes and stuck his tongue through the gap in his front teeth, a sorry attempt at being vicious. Thorin shook his head.

"No," he said and his voice was low and comforting as it reverberated through Kili's back, "Kili is the second son, fortunate enough to be born into Durin's line but unfortunate enough to be the one who gets teased by an older brother. I'm sure there was no one there to tease you when you sucked your thumb, Fili."

"I didn't suck my thumb," Fili said proudly. The man flicked his nose and picked up his small hand.  
"Then why is it so wrinkly and red? Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"YES!" Both boys screamed at the top of their lungs.

"A long time ago when your uncle's father was the owner of a great number of strong companies our family had riches and fine things to last us a million life times. People would come from miles around just to spend a minute gazing at our spectacular mansions or to meet my father."

"Were there beautiful women?" Fili asked in awe. Kili popped his thumb in his mouth.

"There were beautiful women of all sorts, Fili. Now, every week we would host parties for the family – parties such as you could only imagine now. Gold – gold was everywhere. It was wound into banners and strung about mantels, shaped into plates and mounted on walls, some of the family even wore vests that were so decorated in gold that all they could do was sit at the grand table and smile for the weight of it so heavy that they could not stand. Not only was there gold but there were diamonds and sapphires wrought of fire – precious jewels that the world did not know existed and hard stones that had been used to win every battle on the land since the beginning of the earth. And then…there was the Arkenstone."

"The Arkenstone," the boys whispered in wonder. They had heard the story of the Arkenstone a hundred times but never had they tired of the dreams of a something so wondrous, something so important that its very essence seemed to flood their veins and give them strength. At least, that's how their uncle put it.

"Yes. A beautiful gem balanced on a ring that was passed along through or family. At first glance it appeared to be made of sliced crystal but upon further inspection one would find it to be filled with all of the colors of the earth, swirling in an endless pool of mist and light-"

"What happened to it, Uncle? What happened to the stone and all of the wonderful things?"

"You shouldn't inspire questions that you're not ready to answer, brother." Right at that moment Dis rushed into the room with a suitcase in her hand and a mischievous glint in her eyes. The woman was more than beautiful – with her thick black hair and knowing eyes she was godly but her proud nature and fiery blood caused people to fear her. It's not as if she minded – she had only ever fallen in love once but when the man had died she had shunned love and devoted her time to caring for her sons and strengthening her small bank. She took one look at her children crowding around her brother and frowned.

"Boys! The tartar on your teeth is so thick that it's pushing your lips apart! Go on! Go brush your teeth! Now!"

The two ran off as fast as they could. They knew better than to disobey their mother, even where their uncle's stories were involved. Dis sighed and sat down at the kitchen table.

"How are you feeling?" She asked her brother as she raised a mug of coffee to her lips. He said nothing and instead stared for a moment into her eyes before picking up his own cup.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice intentionally rough.

"You always are even if you're not, apparently," she said sarcastically. Suddenly her eyes softened and on a whim of familiar affection she placed her hand on his. "There's no need to stress. We're comfortable here and the rest of the family is _and_ will be until the day comes when someone in Durin's line will give strength to our reputation again."

"Do you think he will be strong enough if I fail?" The man said, tilting his chin at the path that the boys had taken. Dis chuckled.

"I made those boys, dearest brother, I know what I put into them. Nothing but persistence, strength, and wisdom." Now it was the man's turn to laugh.

"And what about your husband?"

"What about him," Dis asked with a smile on her lips, "He only provided the necessary parts."

Amongst many a shout and a clatter the two boys rushed back in and surrounded their uncle. "Look at my teeth," Kili demanded. He gave a powerful roar which Fili felt was his duty as the eldest to match.

"Our reputation will be rebuilt, Dis," Thorin said softly as he pushed Fili's dirty blond hair from his face. "It will. The sons of Durin will not have it otherwise. Would you mind if the boys were late for their classes this morning?"

Dis took a sip of her coffee. "You never ask that so I'm sure you have a good reason and whatnot. You'll have to drop them off then."

The man nodded. Dis picked up her bag, kissed her sons on the cheek, and left the room. A moment later the sound of her old black corvette could be heard speeding off on the lonely backstreet road. The man sat back in his chair and stared pensively at the lone moth circling the dusty kitchen light. With its intricate red and black colors and powerful wings it reminded him of a tiny dragon, scouting with hunger around a blinding light.

"Fili, Kili," he said and the boys immediately stopped fighting and climbed out from beneath the table, "I'm going to tell you about a man from a long time ago."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implications of drug-use ahead

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks, smash the bottles and burn their corks, chip the glasses and crack the plates – _**that's**_ what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

To anyone else the sight of twelve burly men crowded around a messy dinner table would have been disconcerting. Their loud voices, brash manners, and rough faces were, to most, reminiscent of a drunken bikers club however their fine suits and dignified airs told a different story. One of them, an older white-haired man by the name of Balin, turned and cast a merrily mischievous eye on the two men standing in the doorway.

"There they are," he said in a thick accent that was at once as deep and wise as an ancient cavern at the same jolly as a loving grandfather's. "There are the lads!"

Kili spread his spread his arms wide and strolled towards the table where all of the men seated had stopped their merrymaking and turned their eyes towards them. But before he could reach them his shoulders were caught in an iron grip. He looked down at the overly large hands and knew by the proudly flexed tattoos and tanned scars who they belonged to.

"Mister Dwalin," he said with a breathless laugh and a shake of the head. Dwalin said nothing and instead picked up his Kili's hands, rough and grimy with years spent toiling restlessly about in the open, and inspected them in silence.

"No ring," he finally said in a serious voice. He looked Kili in the eye and gave him a wink that was lost beneath his thick, black eyebrows. Kili was reminded of all the times that the kids on the playground had cowered beneath Dwalin's shadow, muttering things like 'hitman' and 'assassin' as they stared wide-eyed at his fancy watch. "Between you and me you're one of the lucky ones here," He winked again and showed Kili the intricate emerald ring set in silver that swirled around the faded tattoo on his finger. He ground his knuckles affectionately into Kili's jaw and turned towards Fili.

"Lion's mane and all," he exclaimed loudly as he walked towards him with open arms. But Kili wasn't paying him any attention for like a moth to the light he was drawn towards the familiar grins and shouts aimed at him over plates heaped with sausage, bread, and pastas. Something in him had awakened, a certain memory of gatherings long since passed or destroyed by something, perhaps someone. As he jumped into an empty chair and pushed himself towards the table he remembered the times when he was pat on the back by straight-backed aunts with infamous lip hair and inexplicable beauty as men with rough voices carried on about the day when he and his brother would take over the business. Neither of them knew what the business was, exactly, and after the mysterious separation of the House of Durin both men had completely forgotten about it.

"Bilbo, can you get us some more eggs, please?" Ori asked in a polite voice. He grimaced and tugged at the collar of his vest. It wasn't like him to wear such professional clothing, a fact that was made obvious by his twitching and muttering. "I don't like these bloody suits, I don't like 'em."

"Yeah, well you've got to look nice to even be considered by those high-neck fools," Dori said with an animated nod. He continued to stuff bread in his mouth, his eyes flashing angrily at the very thought. "If your taste is – eh – anywhere _below par_ they won't even look at you, not even if their noses weren't set on such a high bridge." The group gave such a raucous, hearty laugh. The very walls seemed to shiver and moan with its own laughter.

"You've been dealing with the elves?" Fili asked curiously. 'Elves' was a nickname that their family had given to the high-class kinsfolk who they sometimes mingled with, with very bad results. Once Kili and his brother had broken into that family's estate and spied on what they could only describe as the most solemn dinner possible. In comparison to the Durin family gathering the Elves, led by the poker-faced Thranduil, had conducted everything as if it were a funeral procession. Except for the one girl. Kili noticed a certain fire to her bouncing brown eyes that was not subdued by her bleak surroundings. Before Fili could get an answer Bilbo rushed over and whispered something in his ear. The elder brother stood up with a look of surprise on his face and followed Bilbo up the dusty staircase that led out of the dining room.

"Aye, we have," Bofur said as he watched Kili watching his brother with a disappointed sort of curiosity. It was obvious by the look on the young man's face that he wanted to follow his brother into the deep, dark recesses of the mansion that had swallowed him. The appeal of the feast had flickered out like a dying flame as soon as Kili saw Bilbo cup his hand around his mouth and whispered in Fili's ear. He turned his distracted eyes towards Bofur.

"What for?" Kili asked. A sudden silence swooped in over the room and blanketed the gaiety that there once was. The subject of their dealings was obviously uncomfortable.

"Well, you see…" Bofur leaned forward, placed his palms on the table in front of him, and made as if he were about to speak but the sudden look of panic on Balin's face stopped him.

"He…" he said and his voice lulled apologetically, "he doesn't know." Dwalin, who by this time had wandered to the head of the table and was surveying the proceedings with crossed arms, turned and gave Kili an unreadable look. Everyone at the table could see the darkening look on Kili's face as a sudden realization dawned on him.

"I don't know…what, exactly?" Again silence reigned, heavier and more potent than before. Everyone at the table tried to keep their eyes from straying to the implicitly empty chair where Fili had sat only moments before. And Kili's already obsidian eyes continued to grow darker at the thought of a mystery.

"Ahhhh….Bilbo?" Dori exhaled awkwardly and flicked his hand at Bilbo who had been listening from the staircase, his nose twitching and his lips pursed in interest. "More wine, I think…"

There was an uncomfortable silence as Bilbo pattered around the table, filling their goblets with his experienced grace and patience. Conversation was slow in coming and when it finally arrived it was hesitant and meaningless until it picked up full pace. They could never stand a stunted conversations and though Kili's unexpectedly dark moods could dampen a festival they eventually forgot about his brooding eyes and tightly drawn lips. In fact, they had completely forgotten about his presence when suddenly he tossed his head back and gave a thunderous round of laughter at one of Ori's jokes, nearly falling out of his chair in the process.

"Alright, alright," he said merrily and thumped his mug against Balin's own, "Now can anyone tell me if there are any pretty girls around these parts?"

xXxXx

_Unutterable, inexplicable_

_Silent breath of dust across a thousand lonely caves_

_Beneath mountains of old, crowning jewel-encrusted waves_

_Ware, once, we like to believe_

_Was roped 'round fiery breasts_

_And sewn beneath the fabric of blood-lined Arabian chests_

Kili quickly put down his pen and stuffed a few wads of poetry-lined paper in his back pocket. But it was only his brother who pushed open the door and trudged in.

"Poetry," he said knowingly upon seeing Kili retrieve the papers once again. Kili nodded and stared at his brother, his eyes neither accusing nor curious but somewhere in between. The light of the dancing candle flame was reflected in them, giving him a singularly haunted look.

"Where have you been?"

"Nowhere, really."

"Bullshit."

"Suit yourself, brother."

Fili shrugged off his coat and hung it on the doorknob. Then, glancing once outside, he shut the door and turned the lock. Kili couldn't help but notice his on-edge demeanor. Fili, the master of emotions and impressive royal facades, was making a poor show of hiding the fact that his thoughts were somewhere else completely. He avoided his brother's eyes, not so much out of fear of exposure but deep contemplation. It was a weak attempt, they both knew. There were no secrets between them at the end of the day. It had been thus since birth. Kili caught his brother's eyes and titled his head towards the balcony where he sat nestled in expensive duvets and fabrics. Upon parting with the rest he had immediately done a bit of exploring around the mansion and found, to his utter delight, a room that looked as if it hadn't been used in centuries. He knew what he wanted from it and, without hesitation, he had moved the more cumbersome pieces of ancient furniture aside ( _What is this, a scene from Narnia_ , he had thought as he wrestled with an ancient closet) and pushed the rest out onto the balcony. He had then pinned many blankets between the outside wall and the rail of the balcony, leaving only a small square between them through which the starlight could filter in thus creating a large tent. Lit beneath with candles and lamps it looked to Fili as if his brother had created a gypsy home on his Uncle's balcony. He climbed in beside him, took a cigarette out of its pack, and then, on second thought, put it back in and chucked the rest over the balcony. And Kili still continued to stare at him with his fire-lit eyes.

"Mister Baggins is going to kill you," Fili said sleepily as he stretched out on a pile of blankets. He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at the stars.

"Come on, _fee-wee_ , don't make me beg you for an answer."

"Please don't."

Kili widened his eyes and wiggled his bottom lip, just like he used to do when he was a child and Fili refused to share the only toy between them. " _Oh, pwetty, pwetty pwease fee-wee._ _I reallllly wanna know. Pwease, pwease pwease, pwease, pwease!_ "

"Alright! Stop! That's…weird…"Fili shrugged his brother away just when he was about to lean over and kiss him. "I needed some time to myself, alright? After what happened…and now coming here to this new, odd sort of place." Fili rolled his eyes and shook his head. "It's just very unexpected. That's all."

"Then what was Mister Boggins whispering in your ear?"

" _Baggins_. I had told him that I needed some space to myself. He understood and found me a room."

"Uh-huh…" Kili began to chew on the wooden beads around his neck. He picked up the abandoned ukulele beside him and strummed out a few lazy notes. Fili was lying, he knew it, and it took all of his strength not to call him out on it. His mood began to turn for the worst and for a moment they simply sat in an uncomfortable silence.

" _He…he doesn't know."_

Something was going on. Kili wouldn't be caught dead outside of it.

"By the way," he finally said, his eyes angry but his lips smiling. "You'll never believe what I found."

"Hmm? What is it?"

Kili reached over and retrieved a small ornate box from beneath a pile of covers. He winked at his brother and then unlatched the lid with a dramatic flourish. Fili's eyebrows jumped and he leaned over curiously.

"Is that…"

"Yep…"

"Is it still…?"

"I should know."

"Kili, where did you find this?"

"Beneath a drawer. Someone was hiding it and, since they were," Kili pulled a rolled-up twenty dollar bill from behind his ear and a cancelled credit card from his back pocket. "They're not going to make a big fuss when they discover that it has gone missing. And it would be a terrible shame to just…let it sit."

"You're just a magnet for trouble, aren't you?"

Kili's eyes flashed. "And you're a terrible liar. Ab-so-lute-ly terrible." He held out the rolled up bill. "Gentlemen first."


	4. Chapter 4

Kili woke early the next morning. A ray of sunlight had fallen across his face and his skin had been speckled with dew. There was no better way to wake up than with fresh air on your face and a crick in your neck, or so he thought. If he could avoid it, he wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping in a closed room. He yawned a cavernous, satisfied yawn and sat up. His brother sat off to the side, curled in a corner with a cigarette between his teeth.

                “ _Mor_ -ning,” Kili said. He stretched his legs with a satisfied grunt. “Why are you dressed?”

                Fili cocked his eye at him and gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s half past twelve. You missed breakfast.”

                “Really? Oh. But why are you _dressed_?”

                He was thinking back to the night before when they had tried the drug that he had found underneath the bed. It had proved to be less potent than they thought and yet it had been potent enough to do a number on their state of being. Kili yawned again. He wasn’t surprised to find that he had slept past breakfast. In all honesty he didn’t think that he would wake from their experience until nightfall. Now that he was awake and looking over the balcony of his Uncle’s mansion he couldn’t help but think that what they had done was stupid. But, oh, it had felt so nice in the moment. Fili watched him carefully, his expression guarded, as if he was reading his mind and at the same time keeping his own judgments at bay. He sighed.

                “Let’s not do it again.” He said. Kili ignored him and continued to stare over the balcony. “I’m serious. Any other day would have been fine, I guess, if we were settled in. But our first night here? That was reckless. And we’ve been reckless enough already. Well, _you_ have been.”

                Kili wanted to tell him exactly where he could stuff his paternal chastisement but, as it was, he was still feeling a bit groggy and disoriented. Besides, he didn’t want to be reminded of what had brought them there in the first place: _his_ reckless behavior. But had it really been all that reckless?

                _No_ , he thought to himself as he shuffled towards the door. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him, worried and discontented, _I was justified, then_. Without another word he closed the door between them and wandered towards the kitchen. The rest were already there scarfing down their midday meal. A few bid him good afternoon, namely Ori, and others, with many a sly grins and winks, bid him good morning. But he didn’t feel like dining with them at the moment. Something was calling to him, some restless energy tugged at him from beyond the imposing wooden doors. So he took a hastily packed brunch from Bilbo and was about to go outside when he was struck by a sudden thought.

                “Did Fili take his breakfast down here, with you?” He asked Bilbo who was in the middle of a furious tirade on the sleeping patterns of the Durin’s folk. Bilbo blinked at him in surprise.

                “No. He took it with um…he took it on his own. Upstairs, in the second dining room.”

                “Really?” Kili said, drawing out his enunciations and raising an eyebrow (a highly effective look that he had practiced throughout the years.) The poor thing nodded furiously, causing landslide of curly hair to fall over his eyes. Bilbo pushed his hair away, steadied himself, and tried to match Kili’s disbelieving gaze. Miserably and beautifully, he failed. Kili laughed quietly and walked away, through the double doors, past the gasping fountains of the front lawn, and into the open space of the backyard. There, a separate part of the mansion jutted out into the green semicircle of grass. It was an odd structure, like a hall that had pushed out past the boundaries of the house. Curiosity got the better of him then and, finding the front part of it locked, he forced open the rusted fence that blocked the second entrance. This door was unlocked and he stepped inside of the seemingly ancient structure. It was pitch black inside, despite the piercing sunlight beyond, and it was also filled with wispy cobwebs that brushed across his face and made him gag. He fished a packet of matches from his back pocket and lit four at once. A quivering orange light immediately burst across the room and he froze. Metal and rust, steel and polished wood sparkled before him: a thousand weapons seemed to come to life before him. Not just weapons, the makings of a violent era seemed to come unfold before him. Axes and banners, swords and armor, brass emblems and heavy boots: he blew the dust from their surfaces and touched them gingerly with bated breath. But there was one thing that caught his eye above all: a small but thick bow with a gentle curve at either end. A quick search yielded a quiver of matching arrows. He grasped the bow lightly and then, feeling the responding energy course through his arms, he gave it a tug and released it from the pile of clothes under which it had been buried. This released an avalanche of precious family heirlooms but he didn’t care.               

                He slung the quiver over his shoulder and carried the bow outside. It proved to be even more magnificent in the sunlight and his whole body seemed to tingle over the feel of the sleek, layered wood and taut string. He had made one of these before as a young boy. Even then he had been impressed by the precision and, if he were honest with himself, sensuality of the weapon. Now his breath caught in his throat as he aligned the arrowhead with the grip and drew it back until the end curves had pulled themselves into a tense half circle and the bowstring quivered in his fingers.

                It responded beautifully to his touch and the first arrow went whizzing over the tops of the surrounding trees. But he wanted more. He slipped his shirt off and tried again, contorting his body to better match the shape of the machine. The world was still save for his pounding heartbeat and the contraction of his pupils.

                _Whiiiiiiizzzzzz-thunk._

The arrowhead embedded itself perfectly in the bark of an unsuspecting tree.

                Kili laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling in sporadic jubilation, and set himself up for another go. But something was off. The air was tense now, the lighting suddenly hazy. He spun around, his arrow drawn, his intention predatory and let the arrow fly.

                It was a near miss, too near for comfort. The man’s black hair fluttered in the wake of the arrow as it whizzed past his face, drawing a line of red across his cheek as it did so. Thorin stood still, his hands behind his back and his face turned to the side at the last second. Still the younger man could see the tension in his now bleeding cheek. Kili cried out soundlessly and let the bow drop from his suddenly cold hands. Thorin slackened his jaw and then slowly, slowly turned his head so that his eyes met Kili’s.

                “When we last met,” he said, his eyes blazing “you were shooting squirrels in your mother’s garden. Now, I see, you have turned your arrows to long forgotten family.”

                The moment was tense. Already Kili knew that he had messed up everything. So much for a safe haven, so much for a re-acquanting of old blood. He had not seen his uncle in years and already the man had found need to chastise him. _I am sorry_ , he was going to say but something had changed. There was a new light to Thorin’s eyes and though his countenance had remained the same, the corners of his lips had raised ever so slightly. Suddenly, he pulled his hands from behind his back and held them out to Kili.

                “Come, my nephew.”

                “Thorin!”

                Kili launched himself into his uncle’s arms, just as he had done many times when he was a much younger man. But this time it was different. Whereas once he had been accustomed to the touch and smell of Thorin he felt as if he were experiencing it all for the first time. The smell of sweat, soil, spices, and cigarette smoke was an earthy scent on his skin and a naturalness buried in his hair. There was something about his body, too, that Kili could not place. It was familiar and dependable, unbreakable and warm with an unconditional love that calmed him. But at the same time there was hint of ownership in his touch, an engulfing feeling that extended far past the strength of his grip. Kili was almost glad when Thorin moved him away, just far enough to survey his face.

                “You’ve grown,” he said softly. His thumb traced the edge of Kili’s face: the strong jaw, the playful brow, the proud nose. Kili knew that Thorin was regretful, then, regretful of all the years that had passed between them: years without stories and bonding and guidance. It was as if he was hungrily tracing the lost story of Kili with his thumb. “Though more in body than in mind, so I’ve heard.”

                Kili smiled sheepishly although he was slightly disheartened to hear his uncle speaking of the Incident so soon. _Some would say that I did what I did because I have grown more in mind than in body_ , he wanted to say. But now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want it to be. He had already gotten in trouble with Thorin because of his sharp tongue. So instead of speaking his mind he rested his forehead against Thorin’s own and simply enjoyed the feeling of being in Thorin’s presence again.

                There was a small cough behind them and Kili opened his eyes to find Bilbo hesitating in the back doorway. Gently, Thorin moved away from Kili and examined the bow that until then had lain discarded in the grass.

                “It’s a letter for you,” Bilbo said and handed Kili a small envelope with his name on it. There was a clattering of wood behind him as he examined the envelope.

                “What, for me?” He said suspiciously. Bilbo nodded and twitched his nose, his round eyes fixed on whatever was happening behind Kili. “Who would send a letter to me? I’ve only just got here.”

                “Go on, then. Open it. Let’s see.”

                Kili did not respond. Instead he simply stuffed the letter in the pocket of his cast-off vest and turned to face Thorin. The man was leaning back slightly, the bow leveled at his brow. For a moment Kili simply stared at Thorin. He hadn’t realized how much Thorin had aged. His beard was shorter than the last time he met (an odd thing, the men of their fairly never cut their beards unless they were mourning) and his black hair was longer, threaded through with strands of silver hair. Still, he had retained the dominant bearing and assurance of his younger days. _Whiiiiiiizzzzzz-thunk_ went an arrow that planted itself firmly above the one that Kili had just shot. Thorin turned and looked at him, a hint of cold triumph playing around his grey eyes. Yes, he was still something to look at, a force to be reckoned with. A proud, fiery predator of nature and – could it be? – anger. Kili waved Bilbo away and moved closer to his uncle.

                “Thorin,” he said carefully, measuring his words and averting his eyes, “what is this company that I keep hearing about?”

                _Whiiiiiiizzzzzz-thunk_.

                Thorin unsheathed another arrow and gazed at the tip. “This was a decorative set,” he said thoughtfully, testing the point of the arrow with the tip of his finger. He gasped and pulled his finger away. “It was made for us by another family. Meant to be mounted on a wall and nothing more.”

                “I’m not a child anymore. You said so yourself.” Thorin smirked. Kili knew that look. It was a mix between condescending and loving. “Really. I can handle it…whatever it is.”

                “Kili, no,” was all that he said on the matter. He smiled then and placed his hand on Kili’s neck. For a reason that he couldn’t name, Kili’s skin tingled beneath his touch. “Come dine with me tonight. We have much to talk about.”

                After a second’s hesitation in which he held Kili’s eyes, he turned away slowly and began to walk back to the mansion, his hands clutched behind his back. Only then did Kili realize that he had been holding his breath. He suddenly felt tense and restless all over as if every muscle in his body was vying to be stretched. It was a hot and odd sort of excitement that took him then as he slipped on his shirt and readjusted the bow and arrow. He decided that he was going to claim it. After all, what use would it have been sitting in that dusty old building? Suddenly, he remembered the envelope in his pocket. He pulled it out and tore it open with shaking fingers. It read:

                _To the Honorable Nephew, Enlightened Brother, and Just Son Kili,_

_Come and have dinner with me. I live in the castle by the lake. You can’t miss it – it’s like no other in the world. At night it is lit with a thousand red lights from within. Do not bother asking for the address – simply follow the red glow that you will see from your balcony at 8 pm, precisely, every night._

_I have something for you, a certain gift of knowledge that you might find welcome at this time. Do not bring your brother. It is you alone that I wish to speak to._

_With Utmost Sincerity,_

_Smaug (the Dragon)_

                Honorable, enlightened, just. Kili crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it as far away from him as he could. The hand that held the paper felt hot and dry, as if he had been holding one of the red lights that Smaug had spoken of. It was a dirty trick meant to mock him, he was sure, but all the same he couldn’t help but feel enticed by the offer: something that he could be a part of that Fili couldn’t. Not that it mattered, he reminded himself, it was all a stupid bout of sibling rivalry. But…Smaug had offered him something that he couldn’t resist, no matter how hard he tried: insight. Knowledge. Could this be the family secret that he had been looking for? Kili shook his hair out of his face and began to follow the footsteps in the grass.

                Like a bear with a ring in his nose, he was being pulled along by the mysterious magic of Thorin Oakensheild.

 

 

 

               

               

 

 

               


	5. Chapter 5

            He had watched the man for days and beneath the heat of his gaze the object of his affection did grow hotter, bolder, _brighter_. What was this red magic? It seemed like only yesterday he had turned his back on him in the pursuit of some youthful whim, neither of them imagining that the door closed between them would remain shut for years. And then suddenly he was there again: a grown man, beautiful and dangerous, smirking playfully as if to say, “well?”

            Well! If there was any judgment to be passed he would just have to burn for his negligence. Oh yes, he had reprimanded the man. His words had been vicious, laden with disappointment and disgust, but his mind had been struck blank by the expression in those brown eyes. Beautiful brown eyes that had looked right back at him, brown irises swirling seamlessly around black pools of heaven…

            Thorin watched him then and knew that he was in love. Arms crossed, nose to the window, he could see the whole yard from the small alcove of his office. Beside the garden three lithe young women stood in a cluster, their arms crossed self-righteously across their breasts as Fili gestured for them to move in closer to where he and his brother stood. No doubt charmed by his low vocal register and graceful beckoning they did not walk but drifted curiously towards him. There they stood, their pink lips curved and eyes riveted as he entertained himself by entertaining them in his slow, easy fashion. Kili stood nearby, his shoulders hunched against the sunlight as he watched his brother’s work. Every once in a while he would smile or laugh at a joke but Thorin could tell that his mind was somewhere else. Wherever it was, he yearned to follow in secrecy. Kili had shed his shirt long ago and was clad only in a pair of dark brown corduroy pants with a frayed black belt. His body was both golden and brown due to many years spent toiling tirelessly under the sun. When he moved the lines of his muscles, barely visible, twitched faintly beneath sweaty skin. Thorin suddenly felt as if his body had been filled with icy cold water. His breath hitched in his throat and, after a moment’s pause, he let it out in a silent exhale.

            “Will you not help us, then?” He said. His words echoed around the drafty room. The architecture had been built so that lower tones would linger a bit longer than others. When he turned Thranduil was still staring at him with that pitying gaze, his legs crossed and hands flung possessively across the arms of Thorin’s oaken chair. Thranduil twirled his fingers and then let them fall gracefully back into place.

            “Why would I? I only desire one thing from you. If you cannot provide it then your affairs mean nothing to me.”

            “Affairs…” Thorin was silent, the foul taste of the word heavy on his tongue. Balin eyed him from the corner, sensing Thorin’s anger. There was no middle ground with Thorin, no gray area or room for reconsideration. This was all too true of his emotions as well as his business affairs. Thorin was driven by pride (which most of the times overrode his logic, Balin thought) and his pride was like a serpent, constantly rearing in the face of an adversary. “And you are aware of our… _affairs_?” It was less of a question and more of a reminder. However, Thranduil simply dipped his chin and gazed at the head of his cane.

            “Yes.”

            “So you know that it is in our power to give you what you want and more if you take this deal-”

            “Funny, isn’t it, how a man can speak of power and then beg in the very same breath. It’s like the pauper offering to make the prince rich! No.” Thranduil stood up with a sigh and walked towards the door, his cane tucked carefully beneath his arm. “I know about power. I know how to keep it and keep it well. You are an investment in disappointment, do not deny. There are others who will willingly take your place. I am, after all, a valuable client.”

            “Ah, but sir,” Balin quickly imposed himself between Thranduil and the door. “You must consider the fact that this is no small compensation that we are offering. The highest quality ever produced in vast quantities, vaster than you can imagine! The cocaine-”

            Thranduil held up his hand. “From now on if you must contact me you will do it through Elemrohr. But, honestly, why bother? I made my decision.”

            With that he stepped into the hall and closed the door between them. Ther was a silence and then Balin said, “Well, I think that went-” Suddenly Thorin roared and flung a box at the door. The top sprang open and an explosion of papers burst in the air. They stared at each other through the fluttering sheaves, Thorin panting, Balin shaking his head. The latter sighed. “…well. You know, if you were aiming for his head you probably should have done it when the door was open.”

            “If I was aiming for his head I would have used something heavier.” Thorin sunk into his chair and let his face drop into his hands. One by one, Balin began to retrieve the papers from the floor (no easy work, he was getting so old.) Thorin dragged his hands down his face and gazed at Balin over his fingertips.

            “Don’t do that.” He barked. “Let Mr. Baggins take care of it.”

            Balin smiled gently and continued picking up the papers. “Mr. Baggins has much too much on his funny little mind already, what with the new arrivals and everything.” For a second Thorin almost looked peaceful at the mention of the new arrivals but all too soon his face fell into a dark brood.

            “We are ruined,” he proclaimed behind his hands when Balin had taken a seat across from him.

            “No, we stand on the brink of ruin but we are not ruined.”

            “Then we will fall.”

            Balin shrugged and looked out of the window. The sound of laughter, Kili’s, most likely rose on the wind and fluttered into the room. Thorin closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of spring, a beautiful and distant thought in the dreariness of this affair. Had he ever known spring, he wondered? No, only the taint of the business.

            “There still is hope. Thranduil may change his mind.”

            Thorin snorted. “What’s there to change his mind about? You know what this visit was really about. Salt in the wound. He’s teasing us. He has no concern in his heart for our welfare. He will let us drown.”

            “Thorin,” Balin said gently, “it was the determination in your blood that brought us wealth and plentitude. And it was the evil in another man’s blood that brought it all crashing down. But there are two who share that determined blood, that very same determination that might just save this family.”

            Thorin was silent, his eyes focused on the carpet but unseeing all the same. He was lost in thought, Balin could see that, and yet he was not troubled by whatever had taken his mind. “Thorin?” He said. Thorin looked up at him with distant eyes. Balin could have almost laughed although the situation was grim. He knew that expression too well for he had seen it on Thorin’s face long, long ago when the woman that he had loved turned her back on him for the last time. “It’s Kili, isn’t it?”

            “How did you know?”

            Balin’s eyes twinkled in the fading sunlight. “I have also had my eye on the young one, though perhaps not in the same way. It’s my duty to look after the family’s welfare from the shadows, just keep an eye, that’s all. Many a nights I’ve seen your nephew’s eyes wander…to you, Thorin.” Balin laughed at the expression on Thorin’s face. “Oh yes. When your eyes are turned away from him, his eyes are turned towards you. And when your eyes are turned towards him….he is turned away.”

            “It is not possible.”

            “It is what I have seen.”

            _No_ , Thorin wanted desperately to say, _that is not it_. He did not doubt Balin’s observation for he had felt Kili’s eyes on him many times. To think that the young man could have felt anything akin to what Thorin felt was much too good to be true and so Thorin had written it off as familial admiration. Both Dis and Fili had implied that Kili’s respect for him bordered on worship (although the man would never show it openly.) But to think that Kili could possibly want him…

            “In the end it’s not so much your choice, meaning no offence,” Balin said quietly, “as it is his. He’s a grown man now. He’s aware of the risks involved, I should think.”

            When Thorin made no sign of responding Balin braced his hands on the armrests ad pushed himself up. He sighed, mumbled about his old age, and waddled towards the door with a hand pressed firmly against his lower back. It didn’t matter, Thorin’s silence, for Balin knew that he had planted a seed in the man’s mind that would either grow to fruition or whither away and die according to the hand of fate. That’s what he was for. Like a pin prick of light in the dark he provided just enough direction for others to find their way.

            “Balin.” Thorin’s eyes were clear and honest as he gazed at him. “Thank you.

            “Do not thank me. An observer begs no reward for his senses. By the way….how are things with the elder brother?”

            “He gives me no reason to regret the affair.”

            Balin nodded sleepily. “Aye, well, he’s always had the cooler head of the two. So long as he satisfies you and the situation, him.” With that he took his leave.

#

            That night Kili wandered the halls of the mansion, singing soothing tunes beneath his breath as he traced the patterns on the walls, the railings, the shelves: anything that crossed his path. The whole world seemed to be asleep or locked away in the lamp-lit rooms of the mansion: each one cradling its own secrets and midnight thoughts. Listless, wandering, Kili passed the room where Dwalin’s snores shook the very floorboards. A few doors down was Ori’s room. The young man was speaking slowly and carefully into a phone, reading off a list of numbers in his beautifully enunciated way. And then there was Bifur’s room where the sound of sporadic dream-laden shouts (most likely war cries for Bifur hadn’t been the same after taking a hammer to the head to save a young man) could be heard though the walls. Kili smiled and then….

            Thorin’s room. A simple door bearing a plague reading ‘The Study of Thorin Oakenshield’ had appeared in front of him. It was then that he realized that he had not been wandering listlessly but drifting restlessly towards Thorin’s room. And for what? To regale him with some quip of meaningless news, to cater a plateful of addicting banter, to listen, enthralled, to Thorin’s voice as he spoke in his slow, rippling way of things past and things to come. It seemed to Kili that the weeks in his uncle’s mansion had been spent in a desperate quest to find any reason to talk to him. Indeed, he realized with a jolt, when he wasn’t practicing with his bow and arrow he was residing with his kin around the dinner table, swapping jokes but all the while waiting for Thorin to rouse himself and speak or, better yet, sitting by Thorin’s side and staring distantly into his face. The man fascinated him, inspired him, roused him into fits of passion. Only yesterday he had sprung upon his brother and wrestled him into an angry submission simply because of the way that Thorin had said, ‘I will reign you,’ as a jest in response to Kili’s proclamation that he, son of Dis, was viciously opposed to being reined like a horse.

            He pushed the door open without knocking and was greeted by a warm, orange-lit room. Thorin stood beside the roaring fireplace, his hand braced heavily against the mantel. If he knew that his nephew had seen the look of sorrow and despair on his face he did not show it.

            “May I come in?” Kili asked but he was already eyeing the plush chair before Thorin’s desk. Thorin tilted his head in acquiescence and Kili settled himself gracelessly in the flickering shadow of Thorin. “Will you ever tell me?”      

            “Yes.”

            “When?”

            “When the time is right. I told you that much, haven’t I?” Thorin turned away from the fireplace and gazed out of the window. Flecks of whitish rain pelted the otherwise dark blue image of the sky reflected in the bulging glass. There it was again – the rage and sadness was visible on Thorin’s face even though he had turned from the firelight to face the darkness. Kili clasped his hands and lowered his head pensively. When he looked up again he found Thorin looking at him.

            “I noticed Balin watching me,” he said slowly, “I’ve felt it: all of their eyes on me, all of the time. And I know it’s not because of what happened in New York. They know…they _think_ that I am so ignorant and they pity me for it. But I don’t want to be pitied anymore. I will find out. I’m not a child anymore.”

            “No, you are not.” Thorin came and stood before him. Kili felt his hand ghost through the strands of his hair and he closed his eyes, positively melting into the sensation of Thorin’s touch against his scalp.

            “Fili knows,” he murmured. How was it that a man could smell so _good_ , radiate such warmth and presence? “You don’t deny it.”

            “Consider yourself lucky. Not always is knowledge a blessing. There’s a certain pleasure in secrets, you know.”

            “Pleasure for _you_. You’re teasing me.”          

            “Yes, I am.” Thorin grinned. “But only because I know that you can take it.”

            “Take it?” Kili’s eyes shot open and for a moment he was embarrassed to have found a double entendre in Thorin’s word. The man’s hand was on his throat, his fingers running along the thin stubble of his chin. Suddenly it all felt very wrong to Kili and he pulled back less the feelings that he felt should grow strong enough to be named.

            _Lust._

            _It’s wrong_ , Kili reminded himself but the sensation between his thighs begged to differ. He had fooled around with men before and liked it thus he struggled to convince himself that this was different. Thorin was a man, a more-than-a-man man, but also his mother’s brother. And yet there was no one to enforce the laws of taboo behind the closed door in that hot, rain-rhythmed room. He stared at Thorin, questioning him with a gaze as bold as a prince’s statue, not knowing that such a gaze fueled Thorin’s heart with a reverent adoration.

            “What do you want?” Thorin said, so quietly that Kili didn’t realize that he had spoken until the following silence forced him to answer.

            “I want, I don’t know,” he stuttered.

            “Yes you do. Anything in my power I will gladly give to you. But you must be sure when you name it.”

            “It’s an odd request…”

            “So I thought.”

            “And you won’t judge me?”

            “No.”

            “Okay then,” Kili took a breath in, “I want you.”

#

            There it was: the three magic words that took hold of him and tamed his cacophonic thoughts. The face upturned towards his was beautiful: dark and easy-to-read like a book, the brown eyes lost in a pervading blackness, the lips shy and mischievous.

            But he wouldn’t make Kili do it. No, for the sake of the young man’s dignity anything that happened that night would have to be led by Kili. Otherwise the young man would feel used, led, _dirty_ with sin. A part of Thorin wanted Kili to feel confident enough in his decision to ask for it. And the other part? Well, it wanted Kili to beg.

            “If you want me,” he said slowly, firmly, his eyes never leaving Kili’s, “then prove it to me.”

#

            _For the love of fuck._

            Kili stood up, heady with desire, and curled his fingers around the buttons of Thorin’s shirt. His hands shook as he slipped the buttons from their soft prison, exposing a dark, rolling chest beneath the blue fabric. He didn’t want to think about the repercussions of what such actions would lead to for, in that moment, he was driven by a need so hot that he began to sweat and pant. His tongue found Thorin’s neck and after a confusing moment of crazed oral explorations he bit down hard on the soft skin as Thorin’s arms wrapped around his waist and pulled his hips in closer.

            The clothes were off in less than a minute and he worried that maybe he had been too brash, maybe he should have been more seductive about it. So he stepped back and stared at Thorin’s chest, followed the black trail of curly hair to his stomach, his waist, and then…

            A glimpse was all that was needed to still Kili’s want. He closed his eyes, stepped back, stumbled against the chair, and groaned. He could feel Thorin’s eyes on him, studying his confliction with disappointment. But seeing Thorin’s manhood – such vulnerability –was enough to dampen the flame of rebellion in him. _Wrong, wrong, wrong_ , his thoughts were poisonous, _a nephew should never see his uncle’s penis._

            The smell of damp oakwood and coffee became sharper and he realized, without opening his eyes, that Thorin was much closer. A hand found his and slowly but surely pressed it against warm skin. A slow rhythm bumped against his palm, reminding him of summer days and a deep voice in a stifling library. Thorin’s heartbeat filled him with intoxicating bliss. His hand was guided up Thorin’s chest, his neck, the strong chin, and finally the parted lips that kissed his fingers. Hesitantly, Kili opened his eyes, his breath harsh and loud in his ears. Yet Thorin’s eyes were calm and unwavering as usual. He whispersed something about a bow and arrow.

            _Right_ , Kili thought. He allowed his hands to be guided towards Thorin’s cock. He shuddered at the feel of it – hard and silky at the same time – and let out an involuntary gasp. God, it did feel good. Because what was Thorin but a bow: curved limbs, a thick grip, a taut string to be fingered as a prelude to the firing of ivory arrows? So he handled him thus, without reverence but full of curiosity to explore this new instrument. And why not?

            Thorin wasn’t complaining.

            When Kili was finished they were both breathless and wet, too far gone in their foreplay to care anymore for decency. Kili pulled him to the floor on top of him and let him remove his clothes. It had become so stuffy in the room what with the roaring fireplace and other things but Thorin quickly cooled him with his tongue which darted and flicked in a very teasing way. Growling, hissing, Kili pushed him between his legs, hoping to find relief from his mouth on his painfully throbbing cock but Thorin pulled away. _Course_ , Kili thought, _he’s too much of a prick for such things_. Instead Thorin massaged him gently, one hand on Kili’s cock and the fingers of the other teasing his entrance.

            “Mm, god. What?” Kili said, suddenly realizing that Thorin had spoken. The man smirked.

            “I said: we can stop here.”

            “What? No….no! We can’t.”

            “Oh? And why is that?”

            “’Cause at this moment there’s only one thing kneeling between me and a crackhouse.”

            “That is?”

            “You, inside of me.”

            “I can see why you got into so much trouble in New York. On your hands and knees, now.”

            Kili was quick to oblige. He lowered his head onto his folded arms and pressed his ass forcefully against Thorin’s thighs. A sudden thought occurred to him and he looked up at his uncle through a wild curtain of black hair. “You’ve done this before?”

Thorin was silent. He rubbed the tip of his cock against Kili’s hole, bent down, and worked at it with his mouth. Kili stifled a sigh. He felt as if he could die happy having known such a sensation but the question still burned in his mind. With difficulty, he tried to unscramble his thoughts. “When?”

            “It doesn’t matter.”

            He grunted. “It does to me.”

            “And why is that?”

            “Because…because-” suddenly Thorin pushed into him and he cried out in surprise. Yet after a few thrusts hindered by his squirming the pain subsided into an odd sort of pleasure. “ _Fertheluvuv_ \- fuck! _Fuck_! I want to be the only one,” he squeaked rather than said.

            “Hmm, what was that?”

            “I said… I said,” Kili twisted his neck and stared up at Thorin over his shoulder with a glinting eye, his body rocking gracelessly, “I’d _better_ be the only one.”

            Unknown to Kili those six simple words were the key to unlocking the battle-like passion in Thorin. He gripped his nephew’s hips and pulled him into his body in time with his thrusts, creating a wild sort of music composed of wet sounds, their strained voices, and the fury of the storm outside that seemed to rise in tempo with their actions. But every time Kili felt himself getting close Thorin would pull out and order him to compose himself thus elongating their lovemaking and giving them more time to explore different positions. Kili never knew that sex could last for so long (he had never known more than the ten minute basement-based banters and car-contained frolicking) and by the time he found himself on top of Thorin he was so dazed that he was sure that a day or two had passed since they had started. He stopped riding him just long enough to mop the sweaty hair from his brow and catch his breath.

            “Keep going.” Thorin ordered. Quite surprisingly, he hadn’t shown any signs of losing control since they had started, a quite inhuman feat in Kili’s eyes. Again, he wondered where Thorin had learned so much about hard sex.

            “I can’t.”

            Thorin pressed his hands against his sides lovingly (or possessively) and informed him that he _could_. Kili shook his head, the wooden beads in his hair bouncing angrily against his skin, and swore that it wasn’t possible.

            “Alright,” Thorin said, “But I assure you, Kili, that it is in your best interest to hold out a little longer.”

            Kili thought and as he did he moved in slow circles on Thorin’s cock, holding his gaze all the while. “Will you finish me off if I do stop?” He asked with a cocked brow.

            “That’s a bold request.”

            “Coming from a man in a position of power.”

            “Don’t be so sure of yourself,” Thorin’s voice was sharp. “Your position is only literal and very temporary. You’re still a puppet and I am deep inside of your sleeve.”

            “Oh.” Kili hummed. He knew he should have been humble, subservient, but the sex had emboldened him. For the time being, that was. “And if I don’t stop?”

            “You’ll find out.”

            It didn’t take much more than that to inspire Kili. He took a few more breaths in, threw his head back, and continued to ride Thorin, every muscle fatigued and straining. A steady hand wrapped around his cock and pumped it in time to the rhythm, creating a growing sensation in him that threatened to overpower him completely.

            “I think I’m going to-”

            “I know.”

            “Don’t stop. Don’t…fuck, don’t-” Kili grunted in satisfaction and at the same time Thorin’s hips buckled beneath his. He had time enough to catch a glimpse of his uncle’s contorted face before blackness obscured his vision and his body shuddered and spasmed beneath waves of pleasure.

            He sighed and with his breath rode a life’s worth of tension. He didn’t care about anything anymore – indeed he felt as if he would never have to again – he simply curved his spine back and supported himself with his hands on Thorin’s ankles. He shook the hair from his face and reveled in the feel of his sweat as his cooled on his skin.

            “Mm,” he moaned, unaware of the fact that Thorin was watching his flexed body with something near an obsession, almost a sickness, that usually went hand-in-hand with gold.

            Gingerly, Kili lifted himself and stood over his uncle, gazing with embarrassment at the mess between both of their legs. He laughed, his cheeks coloring, and gazed around the room for some sort of cloth.

            “No, leave it.” Thorin said and then commanded him to sit on the carpet before the fireplace.

            “Really?” Kili said deviantly. He got on his hands and knees and crawled towards the spot as Thorin put out the fire and shimmied open the window, his body still wet and abrasively confident. He came back to the carpet again and sat down, pulling Kili into his body as he did so. It suddenly occurred to Kili that Thorin might have had a hidden messy kink. It wouldn’t surprise him. He had learned a lot about Thorin in the span of a few hours.

            They didn’t speak, they didn’t need to. Instead of talking they listened to the rain, watched the grey smoke rise from the doused firewood and thought their own private thoughts. Kili, for his part, was mainly focused on the persistent throbbing between his legs and wondering when they would do it again. Because he realized that that moment marked the beginning of a new addiction. He could do away with the drugs, he thought, if he could get away with fucking Thorin on every impulse. To have him inside of him again – _that_ was heaven.

            The Study of Thorin Oakenshield, read the plaque on Thorin’s door. Never had a plaque been more fitting.

#

            Later that night Kili opened his eyes and found that the light of the storm outside of the window had shifted. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall and found, to his surprise, that it was only midnight. When had he come in? Eight? Or somewhere closer to eleven.

            He rose stiffly from the carpet and cracked his back. Thorin was slumbering peacefully on the carpet, propped up on the mound of clothes and cushions that one of them had brought down at some point. With his hands clasped before his waist and his pepper hair streaming, twisting sensually down his shoulders he looked, Kili thought, not divine but ruggedly human.

            A devious image entered his mind and he briefly considered initiating a surprise administration but he was fiending something terrible and, though he loved Thorin, a follow-up dose of DXM didn’t seem out of order. _A sort of celebration gift to myself_ , he thought as he exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. For he did feel quite bad-ass for having escaped the cold prison of taboo. Once downstairs he retrieved a bottle from the old antique closet in the kitchen (he had found it on his second day there along with its only key) and proceeded to the second kitchen in the old, converted basement that had not been considered in what seemed like years. Once there he swallowed a syrupy liquid, took off his shirt, and set his iPod to play Genius of Love. He would dance that night, dance and dance because the seed that Thorin had pressed into his body had grown into a restless demon of delight.

            After only a few minutes it occurred to him that he had a terrible craving for milk and he wandered upstairs again, rocking his hips softly to the music that played through his earbuds. Along the way he passed Ori’s room and realized dazedly that he had been going the wrong away.

            “Shoot, fuck-in-a-duck me.”

            He spun around twice and tangoed down the hall for a few minutes when suddenly he heard the voice of Fili in the dark space before him. He was about to call out when suddenly the words that his brother spoke froze him to the spot.

            “-if my brother’s around…”

            “I doubt it. He has taken to wandering the forest and deeper parts of the mansion of his own accord.” That was Thorin’s voice. Kili knew because both his breath and his cock hitched at the sound of it. The intoxicated part of him yearned to go towards them but something else, something much less light-hearted, begged him to be still for just a moment longer.

            “He’s getting anxious.” That was Fili. “I know that he suspects something.”

            “Fili. I know how loyal you are to him. I respect that. But you cannot tell him, for his own sake.”

            “For his own sake? He’s my brother, you’re his uncle. He respects us both. Imagine if he were to find out by accident, if he were to stumble upon us together one of these nights and find out what we were up to together. He’d go mad.”

            Thorin was silent and then, “I gave you a choice, didn’t I?”

            “Yes, but-”

            “You accepted it knowing full well the dangers and necessary commitment.”

            “Yes-”

            “Will you continue or must I find someone else to take your place?”

            “I will continue. I want to. It’s an honor. I’m just…concerned, that’s all.”

            “Kili has nothing to do with this. Do not concern yourself where it is not necessary. Come, Fili. I have something new that I want to show you.”

            The door creaked shut and with it went the soft light from Thorin’s room. The hall was eerily silent what with the disappearance of the two voices. The silence drifted into Kili’s mind, nulled his drugged thoughts into nothingness until suddenly a voice rang out like a siren in his head.

_Come, Fili. Come, Fili. Come, Fili_. That’s what Thorin had said. For some reason the words didn’t sit well with Kili and he nursed them like a wound as he wandered back into the abandoned kitchen. All of a sudden his happiness was gone and he was left with a sensation that was nameless and yet so potent. _Come, Fili_. Something about Thorin and Fili getting together at night. Nothing made sense anymore – his head seemed to be filled with cotton balls and, still curiously depressed, he laid himself down to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I wrote a thing! *points at story* What do you think? You like? If I decide to go ahead with this story I want to make it as metaphorically correct as possible considering the fact that it's, you know, completely different from what Tolkien intended (sorry Tolkien) which means that even though all of the characters are human they are going to be as similar to their original forms as possible. That's why Smaug (he is literally Benedict Cumberbatch in this one,) is all decked out in jewels 'n stuff, Kili was excited by such wealth (remember, dwarves value fine stones and rocky fruits of the earth,) and Bilbo (yes, Martin Freeman) is always scurrying about, constantly harassed like a Hobbit. Also, I hope you're prepared: this will be a very Kili/Thorin, but not definite, Thorin/Fili (the latter is still on the drawing board and might only ever be implied) story. *points at story again* Anyway read on! If you don't like it *points at door* get out.


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